8 pm, Thinking of You
by kenzimone
Summary: 8 p.m., on a date, thinking of you.


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Title: 8 p.m., Thinking of You

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Author: kenzimone

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Summary: 8 p.m., on a date, thinking of you

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Author Note: This is my first In A Heartbeat fic. I had such a good time reading all the other fics that I just felt I had to contribute. Enjoy!

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Disclaimer: I don't own any of the IAH characters, Disney does. 

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Risotto's, 8:00 p.m. 

8th September, 2013

It's Tuesday night, and here we are. Sitting across from each other at my usual table. The lights are dimmed, and someone is playing the violin in one of the corners. The restaurant is filled with the same people as always, the regulars, and I can easily recognize a handful. Some I even know the name of. I know what they're thinking. _She's on another date._ Three, four, five times a week I come here, bringing different male company every time. They would look down on me, were it not that my date and I arrive and leave separately. Every time.

I'm sipping at a glass of wine, listening to him talk. No. _Watching_ him talk. Were you to ask me I would not be able to tell you what our 'conversation' was about. Perhaps the small smile I show him from time to time is enough confirmation to him that I am listening. Perhaps he merely likes to hear his own voice, regardless of me paying attention or not.

I do this every time. Eat my dinner, sip my wine, enjoy my desert, all the while pretending to listen. The couples at the surrounding tables know it, the waiters know it, the only people who don't seem to know are the men I date. Perhaps that's why I only date men who are talkers, who think highly of themselves. That way I can watch, as they entertain themselves. People must think I have bad luck in love, or that I only attract men who are of small mind and enormous ego. I say nothing to prove them wrong. It doesn't matter.

Tonight's date has brown hair and green eyes. He owns a computer company, and from what I understand he also owns a villa in Spain. Or perhaps it was Mexico. He gestures a lot when he talks. Animated, I would call him. Knife and fork are more in the air, being waved around, than on the plate, cutting food. You weren't like this, were you? You would never go on about yourself in this way. You are humble. You _were_ humble? I don't know. 

He hasn't finished the main course yet. No time to eat, when you're trying to impress your lady with villas in Spain, huh? Perhaps he likes the sound of the air between his teeth.. I smile, and he takes it as a sign to continue talking about whatever it was he was going on about. I see our waiter standing at the other side of the room, watching us, amused. Thinking similar thoughts as I am, I suppose.

I've almost finished my wine, but I don't think he's noticed. Nor has he noticed that I've been sitting watching him eat for half an hour, already finished with my dinner. He looks like you, yet not like you. That's the reason he's tonight's date. At first glance, he reminds me of you. But after spending more than a few minutes in his company.. No, he's the direct opposite of you. You would never go on about your villa like this, would you? Of course not. Do you even have a villa? It's been so long, I'm sure you do. Yes, you do have a villa. Twelve years.. Do you remember me?

Strange, isn't it? Here I am, thinking of you. Here I am, on a date, thinking of you. We haven't spoken since graduation. When I think about it, I haven't spoken to any of you since graduation. My sister has, I am sure of it, but her and I don't talk about things that happened twelve years ago. Or maybe she does, only to have me change the subject. The ten year reunion was a couple of years ago. I didn't go, I had too much to do. Too many 'what ifs' to ponder over.

She's married now. My sister, that is. Since four years, I think. I always thought I'd be the first one of us all to marry. Never thought she'd be. I'm not even sure if she was the first. I never asked. She would be happy to tell me, if I did. I know she doesn't like it that I've tried to distance myself from my past. She wasn't happy when I didn't go to the reunion. She went, just as an excuse to meet all of you. Perhaps you could say that she was my representative. My little sister, taking my place.

When she got back she asked me why I didn't go. What should I have told her? That I was afraid? That perhaps, if I _did_ see you again, you would be happy with someone else? That I'd rather not know, so that I could keep on thinking 'what ifs'? So that I could tell myself that there still might be some little sliver of hope, that it wasn't too late for you and me?

I must have looked sad, because my date asks me what is wrong. He has woken up from his state of self adoration to notice me. I smile. Tell him nothing is wrong. Look at my watch – 8:40 p.m. Feign disappointment as I tell him I have to be going, that the hospital paged me and that I'm needed. Stand up, signal for the waiter. Exit out into the night before he can realize that there was no pager.

The drive to my apartment is short. Stepping into my living room I look out the large windows, marveling at the city's magnificent skyline. Eight years, and it gets me every time. I put my car keys on a nearby table, right next to the telephone. My hands linger above the keys before slowly moving to the phone, picking up the receiver. The dial tone cuts through the silence. What if?

I believe in signs, I believe in miracles, I believe that things are meant to be. Can you believe in 'what ifs'? Slamming down the receiver I walk into the kitchen, opening a cabinet and taking out a phone book. It is heavy, and I silently walk back out to the living room, carrying the book as if it is the most precious thing in the world. Maybe it is. Maybe tonight it will make all the 'what ifs' disappear.

I carefully place it on the coffee table before walking back and getting the phone. Sinking down on the sofa, telephone in lap, I look at the book. I've been in this position many times before. Tonight, though, I'm serious. Reaching out a hand, I begin to turn the pages.

You know, from the second I saw you I understood that things were about to change. Suddenly, all my previous crushes seemed so.. small, so insignificant. Can you be in love, but not really love the person? I believe you can. Because you see, I was in love with him, but deep down, I only loved you. I didn't tell you, did I? You never knew, never had the slightest idea that I might harbor these feelings for you. I never told you. And that's why I'm sitting here tonight, looking up your name in the phone book. So that maybe I can tell you, somewhere in the future.

There you are. My breath catches in my throat. You're living in this city. I never knew. I should have asked Brooke, she would have told me. I almost ruined everything because I was running from the past. See this, this is my chance to change everything. And you know what? I'm going to take it. I dial your number, and wait.

One tone.

Of course, everything won't solve itself the minute I hear your voice..

Two tones.

But you know, it will look a little bit brighter, I hope.

Three tones.

Are you home? It's not that late, I hope you are. I haven't come this far just to be denied the chance to make everything alright again, have I?

Fou-

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"Hello?"

And everything stops. Your voice, it's just like I remember it. I open my mouth, but the words won't come out, they're stuck in my throat, and I feel as I might suffocate.

__

"Hello?"

I hear no children in the background, no wife or girlfriend. Just.. just _you_. And the words loosen, air flowing into my lungs. And I smile.

"Hi, Jamie. It's Val.."


End file.
